My Sweet Addiction
by Food Service Girl
Summary: This is a story about a person's insane obsession with a character from Degrassi Community School.
1. Monkey

THE EXTREMELY LONG AUTHORS NOTE THAT WILL SCARE READERS AND POTENTIAL REVIEWERS AWAY!!!

Summary: A.U. Something I had been planning to write for some time now. I finally just got the audacity to do it. It is about how people can be so obsessed with CRAIG! (But then, who isn't?) Rated as it is for swearing and violence.

Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the shirt on my back and the floppy disk that this is saved on, which actually technically belongs to my mom because she bought it, so there is no way I could possibly own the entire concept of Degrassi or that lovely Craig Manning. That would be nice though... *Puts on Wish List: One Craig Manning* (This is the only Disclaimer that will be posted because it is EXTREMELY unlikely I will become in possession of Degrassi by the time the story is over!)

I kind of blurred everything together (episode wise), so some of it may be out of order or happen too fast. Basically I just put it into the order of my choosing so please, please don't go all nut-so on me just because you finally realized that wasn't how the episodes went. It's an Alternate Universe fic and yeah, it is written in a weird POV. (Too many I's)

Rated: PG-13 just because of a little ol' something called SWEARING and VIOLENCE. I apologize ahead of time for the constant profanities, but that is just how the fic was written.

===================

Part One

He never came near me. Never ever.

He didn't look at me or talk to me. I practically didn't exist in his little world. I don't think he even knows my name, let alone how much I love him. What I would give if he would just say my name? My life, my soul, my everything. I would love to see those three little words on his tender lips...

But that would never happen. Not as long as he was him and I was me. Never.

I was looking at him. I always watch him. I don't know why. No, I do. I love him. I love him more than sunsets and pink cotton candy. 

This time, it was from across the room during Commons. Why did I say that? I'm always watching him from _across the room_. I've never sat remotely near him. 

He was going over some of his notes. I was pretending to be reading. 

I wasn't sure if I was actually fooling anyone. I wasn't even looking at the damn book; I was making cow-eyes at the guy I love and trying not to giggle.

Whenever Craig's around me, I seemed to just loose my train of thought... but who wouldn't? What, with his great personality, his prince charming nature, and the fact that he was FINE with an F-I-N-E. I could get lost in his eyes. And the hair... who didn't love the hair? There, I was doing it again.

I tried to get back to my reading. The book was Tamora Pierce's _In the Hands of the Goddess_. It was the tenth time I had read it. But I thought the story was the most awesome thing I had ever. Better than butterflies and bubble gum.

I briefly looked up from my book in a fit of mad giggles. What I saw enraged me. Apparently, he, Craig, the god, was talking to one of his 'friends'. It was that Emma bitch. She must of come up to him when I wasn't looking. She had a tendency to do that. Emma was always creeping around, spying, and ruining other people's lives. Sneaky bitch.

Just look at what had happened to that Liberty chick. She was totally cool, and then came the little dirty rumor train - conducted by Emma - and the next thing you know, Liberty's a harlot. 

I have no idea as to why Craig was talking to Emma. Craig was too cool for someone like Emma. Craig was too cool for everything. 

_~ Why would he stoop to such a level? I think it's out of pity. Unless Emma is some sort of witch who has put a spell on him...? Maybe she's secretly a demon who is going to kill everyone! Yeah, and I have to exorcize her, but than make a mistake, and kill her. And then I would have to comfort Craig...  No, that's just gay, besides really hott. But it would be funny to think about. Emma the Bitch-Witch. ~_

Pulling out my notebook, I quickly drew a small doodle of Emma the Bitch-Witch. She had fangs, a cape, a hat, and zero cleavage.

_~ Not that she has any now! It's just toilet paper... ~_

Looking up to the unsuspecting model and then back at the drawing, what I saw was funny. The picture looked exactly like Emma. She was in the same stupid pose and everything.

I decided to add the picture to my scrapbook of 'Thing's That MUST Be Done to Emma Nelson by Another or Myself, Whichever is More Convenient to Harming the Bitch, But Preferably Witnessed by Myself Either Way!' God, I love that scrapbook.

It was really just a folder full of pictures of Emma dying in various ways. I had a few favorites. Like the one where she was strapped down to an electric chair with me pulling the switch, and another that I drew of her in a gas chamber, suffocating. Hilarious stuff, the bits and pieces in that folder and my passionate hate of Emma could combine to make.

Quickly looking around, I rummaged through my blue backpack and took out the folder. I unceremoniously stuffed the picture in and jammed the folder back to its hidden resting-place. I was fighting the urge to throw the folder's contents around the Commons to show everyone just how I felt, but I didn't. I didn't want to get in trouble.

I once had a friend who drew pictures and wrote dark poems and stories. She had had such a folder. Her name was Amanda. Amanda left her folder in a class one day, and when she went back to get it, she found the teacher looking through it. 

I remember hearing her tell me about how upset the teacher had been. I think it was Ms. Kwan. We had laughed about it that day, but the next, she didn't show up for school. Or the next, and then a week passed, and then another, and then a couple of months. I thought maybe she had gone into rehab, because she was like that.

I didn't learn until three months after Amanda had left that her parents had totally freaked out. They had decided to get her out of public schools and into private education. Amanda also had to go through some serious counseling. _~ But at least Amanda had parents who cared... ~_

It was a damn shame that she moved because Amanda had been my only friend for two years. I had never bothered to make any others. That was kind of stupid of me. By now I had grown a reputation as a 'freak'. All of the exclusive cliques were closed to someone like me, and even the other weirdoes didn't like me, let alone the normal people. 

_~ But it's not like I care about that kind of crap... I just wish that Craig didn't care about 'social circles' as much as he does. ~_ We could have been the best of friends by now. _~ And maybe even more... ~_

I have loved Craig from the first time I saw him. I remember that day perfectly. It had been on the first day of grade nine.

I was sauntering - yes; I saunter - along as usual. I remember I had been late that day, so maybe I could have been a brisk stroll. Or was I scrabbling along? 

_~ Screw it, might as well tell it like it happened... ~_

* * * * *

So I was running. Yes, I am -the last- person you would expect to be doing a mad, deathly dash down the hallway, but you would be too if you had only just arrived at school four minutes before the bell was going to ring and your first class was with Ms. Kwan. 

She remembers things like tardiness. I don't like to be remembered.

Anyway, I was running through the packed corridors when I roughly pushed past someone. That person yelled "watch it freak!" so I turned to yell back, "sorry", which, I learned, was a very stupid thing to do. At a dead run down a hallway filled with people, you don't look back and excuse yourself.

As I was apologizing I think I tripped over something, maybe a foot. I felt myself crash into something hard. It might have been a wall or a locker or a backpack, I can't remember, it gets kind of hazy. But I'm on the ground and I see the other kids laughing at me, two in particular and then I blacked out.

When I awoke he was there. Craig was the first thing I saw, him and all his loveliness. It was like a new beginning for me. To think that I had been contemplating suicide the night before! Ha! 

Who wouldn't want to live in a world where there are people like Craig Manning? Psychos are what you would call those persons. But at the time I didn't know who he was. All I knew at the time was that he was my savior. And this was our first encounter:

My mind was in a haze. Everything was blurry. 

_~ Have I gone blind? No, wait... My glasses are missing ~_ I could just make out that someone was standing over me. Male. Seemed cute, but with my vision you never can tell... I closed my eyes again.

I heard something. It sounded like someone was talking.

I thought I was still in bed and my brother had come to wake me. "Ten more minutes..." I mumbled and rolled over.

_~ Wait. My bed isn't _this_ lumpy. What the...? This isn't my... ~_

"Are you Ok?" someone was asking me.

"Ahh!" I shrieked in absolute terror. I just don't like waking up in strange places. I don't even like waking up. I jumped off of the cot I had been lying on, and nearly knocked over the stranger standing next to me.

As I regained my vision, I saw I was in the nurses' office. "Sorry!" I said sheepishly.

The nurse, whose name I forget, simply laughed. "That's Ok!" she said, still laughing. "It's those darn smelling salts! They always affect everyone differently! Your reaction just happened to be the second-to-worst one yet!" The nurse politely smiled at me

_~ So she had had to use smelling salts to wake me. That was why I had this urge to puke out everything I had eaten within the last three days. And I was in the nurse's office. Ok. I can deal with this. Just don't start hyperventilating... again. ~_

"Why am I here? What happened?" I asked. 

"That is a question I myself am puzzling over. Perhaps Mr. Manning here would care to explain." The nurse had lost her humor. Damn it. Most nurses do, I have learned, when it comes to the care of their patients. 

I looked over to the direction that she was motioning to and saw an angel. He was perfect. Seriously. He was not _the_ hottest thing on the planet -that title belongs to Brad Pitt, but that is just what made him even better. His hair was the ultimate aphrodisiac, in my opinion at the time. (As it still is now) Its fluffiness made me want to go up and rub it... His ass was really fine too. We were fated to be together.

_~ I really hope it wasn't anything embarrassing that got me down here. Please oh please oh please! Nothing to embarrass me in front of him! Please! ~_

Hark! The angel spoke: "So I was walking in the hallway to get to my class, right? When I hear this really loud 'SMACK' sound. I looked over to where the noise had come from and I saw you on the ground. I think I heard a couple of people say you were running and hit the wall. Nobody was doing anything but laughing, so some other guy, Jimmy I think, and me decided to bring you here. That was like fifteen minutes ago. Then the nurse came in, gave you the salts and you woke up." Damn, the angel was annoyed...

_~ Damn, shit, crap. Talk about embarrassing. ~_ I don't mean in front of the other students. I mean in front of this mysterious new student. _~ Bad first impression! ~_

"Look," he said, getting impatient. "You seem to be all right now. I have to get to class. Can I go?"

_~ Did I say bad first impression? I meant horrible. He's mad at me; I made him late to a class on the very first day. Great! ~_

"Sure!" said the nurse, getting back some of her fake enthusiasm. "Let me just write you up a pass!" They both left the room. I plopped back down on the cheap cot they had provided me with.

_~ Shit! ~_

* * * * *

That had been some two months ago. 

I had found his schedule in the nurses' office that day and immediately had most of my classes changed to be with him.

So I just keep watching him. Right now it was second hour Commons. At precisely nine-fifteen, he would get up and go to the food counter and order a bagel. I checked my watch. _~ Two more minutes. ~_

I tried to get back to reading. 

_~ So now Alanna is meeting with Jonathan. In a** dress!** ~_ This was my favorite part of the entire book. I was giggling rather loudly by the time I got to the end of the chapter.

Someone at another table _'shushed'_ me. I turned around and '_shushed' _them back, mouthing, 'I'm trying to study, jackass!' I turned back and checked my watch.

_~ __Nine seventeen__, Craig should be getting his bagel now! What the...! ~ _When I had looked over at the line, he wasn't there. I coolly turned back around and briefly glanced at the table he was sitting at. It was to the far left of me. I had chosen the table I was sitting at because I could see him clearly, if you could see someone from across the commons clearly.

_~ Oh my god! He's still talking to that Emma slut! She's keeping him off of his schedule! Someone ought to teach that bitch a lesson! ~ _Hell, Emma didn't even have Commons this hour. She was probably missing some class that she deemed 'unworthy'. 

_~ Fucking the village fuck goat! Fuck! ~_ Emma the bitch had sat down. She was blocking my perfect view of Craig! This was something to think about.

I mean, sure Craig and I haven't spoken more then two hundred ninety-seven words to each other since that first day. I know how many because I keep count. But because we haven't talked much doesn't mean that we can't have a good relationship. And fuck like rabbits.

I wish one day he would just come up to me and start talking about anything, photography, Hollywood, detentions, whatever. Did you know that it is really frustrating to like someone, and have not spoken more then three hundred ninety-four words _total_. 

I just know he would like me. We could be the best of friends. But whenever I tried to talk to him, one of those loser grade eight persons would get to him first. I don't know how or why he made friends with them. Seriously. They are all so immature.

The eighth graders would turn him against me too, I just know it. They know me better then Craig, and like most people, find me odd. But I still continue to watch him.

He was still talking to Emma the Bitch. I took out that picture I had drawn of Emma the Bitch-Witch and ripped it in half. I wish I had powers. The things I would do...

Ironically, just after I had torn up the picture of Emma the Bitch, a supervisor came up and asked her what she was doing in second hour Commons.

_~ Yes! ~_ Emma got back up and left. My view of Craig was perfect once more. He was reading something. I think it was funny. He kept laughing.

He laughed. I laughed. We were bonding...


	2. Smiles And Laughter

AHHH!!! Ok, it's going to be random chapter length. However it turns out, it will be posted like that... I won't try to stretch anything out to the point of complete boredom!

===================

Part Two

I looked at the clock. Three-thirty. It was the last class of the day. Craig would probably go over to that ass-whore Sean's house next, damn him.

Sean, the little fuck up, the little orphaned alcoholic, was trying to keep Craig away from me again. What I would give for just ten minutes alone with that ass Sean, I would fuck him up so bad. Or better yet, I'd like ten minutes with Craig. I would just plain fuck him instead. That lovely Craig...

_~ Crap ~ _that bitch Kwan is staring at me again. We are supposed to be reading something in the text. _~ Page I don't give a crap in section piss off skank. ~_ Kwan was suspicious of every goddamn thing I did. _~ Bet she thinks she should get teacher-of-the-year award. More like worst teacher... ~_

She was almost as nosy as Emma was. Except Emma was worse, because she had this really weird sounding, whinny voice that always got on my nerves. It had this tone to it, like she thought she was high and mighty. Everyone bow down to her. Queen Emma. The day I knelt down to Emma was the day I would hara-kiri.

I am scribbling on my desk. No pictures, just lines. In pen. I am a rebel. The bell rings. School is over. Jump for joy. Or not.

I go to my locker to put some stuff away. It is right next to that bitch Emma's. She and her friend Manny the whore are always jabbering on about useless crap. Today it was fashion of the celebrities. How shallow can you get?

I jam a few books into my locker. I do not bother taking out a coat because I am already wearing one. It is a Columbia, black, two sizes too big. It is of the highest quality. I never take it off at school.

This may have gotten me a reputation as some sort of "freak", a "jacketfreak" if you will. The hell if I care what that Paige bitch and her so-called friends think. Craig wouldn't care if he actually saw me. I just know it.

Besides, it is good for "hiding" things with. Nobody notices that your coat is slightly more bulky then it should be. This is really good because I can take my knife around with me. It is named after Craig. A lot of my things are named after Craig: notebooks, lamps, emotions...

Emma and Manny left. _~ Good ~ _I start searching around in the bottom of my paper-filled locker for an old Media Immersion's assignment.

It was due a week ago. I still hadn't started it. The ways things were going, I probably wouldn't ever do it. _~ Screw it ~ _I nearly close my locker, but something stops me.

With a sigh, I continued to look. _~ No, not screw it. I haven't turned anything in for a long time... I have to get that C, stay average ~ _Finally, after going through the bleedin' locker twice, I found it. The paper had been hidden under my monstrous Biology book.

Quickly scanning over a few of the question, I nearly laughed. _~ How many megabytes are in a kilobyte? Stupid gay-ass trick question... Simpson thinks he is so hip, so cool, what a loser... ~ _I shoved the already crinkled paper into my coat pocket.

I caught my foot on the locker door and slammed it shut. _~ Respect the school's property, my ass... ~ _I looked down and saw I had made another mark on the door. _~ Good ~ _I kicked the stupid thing once more for good measure, then started to head for the exit. 

I approached the band room. _~ Probably should take my trombone home and practice a bit, concert coming up and all. ~ _I passed the band room. _~ Too bad... ~ _

Looking over to Craig's locker, I saw he and the bitch were talking once again. One of these days I would just like to show her that life is not all bundles of joy.

Craig laughed. Emma laughed. I became jealous.


	3. To Be A Lover

Yep, just keep reading.

===================

Part Three

(Next Day)

Now it seems having a locker next to the bitch is not bad at all. I was going through my Algebra notes when I overheard Emma and Manny talking. About Craig. About my Craig. I froze, and started to really listen to the bitch and the whore. For once.

Emma. "Yeah, so then Sean came over and said he was like scared that something was wrong with Craig. We went over to Joey's house and told him. It ended up that Craig had run away from his father.

Manny. "Really?"

Emma. "Yeah! His father was like beating him or something." She said it so indifferently, so emotionlessly. 

I wanted to strangle the bitch.

But Craig, my Craig, was being hurt. Inside I was screaming with pain. Pain for the godly Craig. Outside, I kept the same straight, emotionless face that had plagued me for five years. I shifted myself so I could hear better, but so I didn't actually look like I was listening.

Emma. "So now Craig is living with Joey and his step-sister Angela."

The information was coming at me in a rush. Joey... Angela...? Who were these people? Why hadn't I heard of them before? Was Craig going to move away from me forever?

Manny. "Wow. That's harsh. So did you get the homework Mr. Simp-"

_~ HOMEWORK! The whore is concerned about HOMEWORK at time like this. ~ _I tuned out again. They were back to the same old crap. 

But Craig. Hurt. Why didn't I know this? Craig is my guy. I should know everything about him. _~ Then why didn't I know he was suffering? ~ _My heart was reaching out for him. I left my locker for his/my/our next class, World Civilization.

I sat down in my usual seat - the one furthest in the back but closest to the door. I was the first one so I had the pleasure of watching everyone leisurely file in, chatting with their friends, giving no real care if they would be late or not. I hate people like that. Then again, I hate a lot of things.

I nonchalantly scanned everyone's faces, looking for a sign of Craig. No luck. Normally, he would be sitting two seats over and three rows down. Today his seat was empty

_~ Where the hell _is_ he? ~ _The bell rang. Craig hadn't showed up.

The teacher, Mr. Finch, began calling attendance. I didn't even bother to say anything when he called out my name. I never do. I simply raised my hand a smidgen. It is all just part of the routine I had. The teachers learn to accept it.

When he called on Craig there was, of course, no answer. _~ Where the hell is HE? ~_

Basically the only thing we did the entire class was take notes. Mr. Finch thought it was stimulating. The entire class thought it was one sick and twisted joke. I didn't really have to pay attention though. Instead, I zoned out and thought about Craig. 

_~ What the fuck is going on...? He should be here... What if something bad happened and I NEVER get to see him again? I think I'd kill myself... ~ _I looked at my watch. Thirty-five more minutes until this class was over. Mr. Finch was still droning on up front about the ancient Mayans. Looking around the classroom, I saw no one was paying any more attention then I was. _~ This sucks ~ _

Time flew by. Or not. I checked my watch once more. It was eleven thirty. Five minutes had passed. _~ God damn it! ~ _I reached into my coat and felt for my knife. It was still in its pocket.

I started tracing the very familiar engravings on the polished wooden hilt. It spelt out three simple letters: DIE. I had put it on there before I met Craig. All of my things now said CRAIG. I had kept the 'DIE' knife because it was the first and last my brother had given me. It was supposed to be a family business, making knives. I was the only one who kept up on it now.

Someone knocked on the door, bringing me back to reality. Mr. Finch stopped his lecture and the class - half-asleep and very thankful for this interruption - looked over to the source of the sound. The door opened and... In came Craig! _~ Whatthefuck!?! ~_

He looked tired. Just tired, plain and simply. I watched him hand a pink note to Mr. Finch and sit down at his desk. _~ God damn it, if I ever find the person who did this to my Craig... I swear...! ~ _My hand tightened around the hilt of the knife. _~ NO! I said I wouldn't go there... again... ~ _My grip loosened and I pulled my hand out of the jacket.

The rest of the class period was hell. I kept looking over at Craig. He looked... beaten. Like he didn't have anything to care about anymore. Like he wanted to give it all up. _~ Damn it! ~ _I had to fight the urge to just go over to him, ask him what was wrong, to just simply comfort him.

_~ That would be a laugh! The freak showing emotion. ~ _I glanced over at Gavin. He sat across the room from me, but I still had a good view of him. His head was on his desk and he looked like he was sleeping. _~ HE would certainly get a kick out of it... or me... ~ _

When the bell rang, I mechanically collected my book and spirals. I started shoving them into my backpack. I swung the bag around my shoulders and pretended to be adjusting the straps. I was really looking at Craig.

He was still sitting in his desk, staring forward like he had no where else to go. _~ Damn it! Why are there so many people around?!? ~ _I saw Emma go up to him.

_~ No... ~ She_ wrapped an arm around him. _She _told him it was all right. _She _comforted him. _~ No... ~ _What was worse, Craig smiled. At Emma.

I left and headed for lunch with a few more things in my head to think about then at the beginning of the hour.

===================

Hey! Has anyone seen 'The Fan' with Robert DeNeiro and Wesley Snipes? (Pardon the spelling!) It is an old, but cool movie! It has KNIVES!!!


	4. Love Like Blood

And the story continues...

===================

Part Four

I did not go to the damned cafeteria. I am not like everyone else.

People would eat with their friends. They would gossip on the same meaningless crap. 'Oh, he likes her' and 'did you _see_ what she was wearing today?' and 'I can't believe she had the nerve to do that to him!' I had given up on that shit in sixth grade, three years ago. Three years before Craig.

Instead I went to the bathroom. In a public school, it was really the only place one could find privacy. However limited it was. I opened the door to the restroom and quickly checked under all the stalls for anyone else. No one, as usual. _~ Only a loser would willingly spend their lunch hour in the bathroom. Well shit on that idea... ~ _

Going into one of the stalls, I turned around and locked the door. Reaching behind the toilet, I found the plywood board I had placed there a year ago. One year before Craig. It had been a great idea I had come up with so I wouldn't have to balance all of my food on my lap.

Taking out my lunch, I set it up on the tray as I always do. Mathematically. 

Peanut butter sandwich in the middle, apple on the right, and juice to the left. I took the knife out of the inside pocket of my jacket. I lay it down horizontally across the top of my "tray". I would later use it on my apple. 

I like cutting up apples. I like cutting up anything. To stab, to hurt, to maim, to kill. It is the best high I have found. Even better then burning myself. It usually gets me through the day until I get home. That is when the fun begins. Ok, I confess, I don't actually do that. I just like to pretend I'm sick and twisted so people will ignore me.

I look around the stall while I am eating and see someone has written something new. This one really got me off. It said, 'Craig should go fuck himself'.

I pick up my knife off the tray and start slashing it off the stall wall. _~ Damn motherfucking whores. If anything, he should fuck me. ~ _I didn't stop until it and the space two inches around it was completely blacked out.

Right above the former obscenity, I inscribe, 'Craig is hot you jackhole.' I start hyperventilating. To think, someone would come into _my_ stall and write such a thing!? _~ Fuck the shitty goat fucker! ~_

I hear noises. The door opens and a couple people enter the bathroom. I quickly bring my legs up to hide my presence. I am like that. I do not like interactions with others. Using the exercises I had been shown, I tried to get my breathing back to normal. 

I can hear them talking, the kids. 

"Hey, so I was in Mr. Simpson's Media Immersions class today and somehow everyone was sent a message that said that Mr. Simpson was boning Emma Nelson's mom. It was fucking hilarious!"

"Like I give a shit! And who the hell is Emma Nelson?"

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"God, I am just having a rough day! Maybe you should-"

They leave.

Putting my legs down, I tried to remember who Mr. Simpson was. My mind sometimes becomes very hazy. I am supposed to take medication to take care of that. But I say screw it. Why bother? Save the fucking money for something important. Like leaving this shit-ass town.

Mr. Simpson... Oh! He was that teacher who hates me. I think it had something to do with spilling water all over a keyboard. I thought he was gay or a pedophile or a zombie. He sure acts like it sometimes...

Emma must be really upset to have the entire school know that Mr. Simpson was boning her mother. HA! If only I cared. Good. Maybe the little bitch will finally get off of her high horse. Maybe she will commit suicide. Seppuku. _~ I hope so... ~_

Damned bitch.

===================

'Were were you when they decided heaven was a more intangible idea 'n you couldn't, you couldn't really get there?' -- A Ladder to Heaven, South Park...


	5. Only A Lad

Hmmm... This looks interesting. A new chapter to read!

===================

Part Five

I finished eating my lunch. I put the remains back into the brown paper bag. Crumpling the bag up into a ball, I throw it over the wall and into another stall. I heard the bag bounce off the toilet and land on the floor. I leave it there.

Exiting the stall, I went to the sink to clean my knife. I turned the tap on and let the water heat. Until steam came off the water, I refused to submit my knife to mediocrity. Hot water cleaned the blade better.

As I waited for the rushing water to hit 'just so', I thought about what I could do. It was either stay in the bathroom or recklessly roam the halls. Deciding that the bathroom was getting a little small, I washed my knife and left for my next class, band, early.

If I were to be caught roaming the halls without a pass, I would have to stay after school for a detention. Which, by the way, are totally not fun. Normally I like my jacket, but just sitting in a small desk, with strange people openly staring at you is really not my idea of fun. They just kept staring. I could not even touch my knife, because I didn't want to seem suspicious. _~ Damn Kwan ~_

But it is _fun_ to walk around the school without having to try not to be noticed. Nine times out of ten I wasn't caught. Ten times out of ten I was extremely reckless, and today was not different. By myself, I wasn't shy or nervous. Alone, I could do what ever the hell I wanted. I'd dance and skip through the halls singing songs where every other word was a swear word. Screw Degrassi and its rules and congruity. 

That is what Degrassi was all about... _~ Turning students into mindless conformists who would agree to anything a _popular_ person said. Damn staff trying to keep the bold and independent down. Only feeding the creativity of their favorites. ~ _That was probably the paranoia talking again.

_~ Stupid medication ~_ Corbin, my annoying older brother, had probably slipped it into my sandwich again. _~ Total slacker when it comes to himself, but follows all the rules when it comes to me. ~ _I was walking through the halls, dodging the monitors and fellow class ditchers.

_~ What the hell are their names? I know I've seen 'em before... Ashley and Ellie? Lesbians... ~ _I didn't have anything against them, but I knew others who might. A stronger grade-A, class-ass, bully-type guy. _~ Who could break a bone if he wanted to... or did... ~_

Trying to forget such thoughts, I tried thinking of something else. _~ Like Emma-Bitch! Her mum was banging Mr. Simpson...! Ha! ~_

I became high off of the idea that Emma's world may crash down around her at any moment I chose. I was unusually bold. So bold that I walked right into the staff lounge and sat down in one of the chairs.

It was a crazy idea that had came to me one day when I was eating lunch in my stall. I found it hilarious then, and I did now. Laughing under my breath, I stopped when I heard something moving around in a closet near by. 

Getting up, I decide to investigate. _~ What the hell... if I get caught it'll just get me another detention... and who the fuck cares about those? ~_

I open the closet door, shedding light into a very dark scene, in more then one way.

I had stumbled upon two staff members stripped down to their underwear, entangled together. _~ No wait ~_ I observed, they were halfway out of their underwear, and it seemed the male was sporting a... well, erection.

Inside I was laughing my ass off. Outside I kept the same stony face. _~ Somebody's gonna get in trouble! ~ _I thought in a singsong voice.

"Holy crap!" one of them says. 

"Jesus fucking Christ!" yells the other.

_~ I didn't know people were so religious at this school... ~_

I didn't say anything as they both struggled to get up off the floor, pulling their clothes on as fast as they could, swearing. 

I opened the door a little further, letting even more light into the dark closet to better see the busted staff members. The female was Ms. Kwan. The male was... Mr. Simpson! So much for boning Emma's mother! _~ Well look at the cards Loki has dealt me now... I might as well play them... I am such a loser... ~_

Fully clothed now, the teachers inquisitively looked to see who had interrupted their... moment.

"Who the hell are you?" Ms. Kwan asked.

I remained silent. Outside. _~ You don't remember me bitch?!? After all the fucking detentions? After the _many_ times I spent my late afternoons scraping _fucking_ gum off the bottoms of desks?!?_

Mr. Simpson squinted at me, looking very puzzled. "Amy? Amys? Is that your name?" he asked. 

I didn't bother to correct him. I simply nodded. _~ Jackhole... ~_

"Shit." Simpson cursed under his breath. "Well then. I guess we have a situation on our hands now don't we."

I still didn't say anything on the outside. Inside, thoughts were rapidly racing through my skull. _~ Fucking asswhores don't remember me... stupid idiots in trouble now... gotta hurt something... now... ~_

"Shit." He said again, only this time, louder. Looking at Ms. Kwan, he said, "Why don't you leave? I will handle this." _~ Go ahead and try! ~_

Smoothing out her skirt, Ms. Kwan briefly nodded, and then slid past me. Turning around, I watched her walk across the deserted staff room, and then leave. 

"Ehm." Mr. Simpson cleared his throat. I turned back towards him, and found that he was standing right next to me. Because I as tall as I am,  which is freakishly giant-esque tall, I was staring straight into his eyes. He was nervous. I could tell. I quickly backed up into the empty staff room and he followed. 

I looked down. His erection had faded. _~ Hee hee... ~_

"Why don't we go to my classroom and discuss the matter at hand?" He requested quietly and politely. _~ Boo Yaw! Score one for the freak!~_

===================

_I think it's time to blow this thing around; get everybody and start together. Ok, 3 2 1 Let's Jam!_ (Who doesn't know where that is from!?! [Cowboy Bebop's opening theme, Tank !]


	6. All We Ever Wanted

Sweet Addiction: The only story on fanfiction.net that _proudly_ boasts a Kwan/Simpson pairing.

Why? Because I can... and I was the first one to think of it. In your face! Go Originality! [just to let you know, this was written like, during the middle of the second season, so it is really dated!]

===================

Part Six

Upon entering Mr. Simpson's classroom, I sat down in the nearest desk and huddled down deep into my jacket. I felt the pressure of the knife against my shirt and skin and was relieved. A little. Even if this guy went wacko, I could still protect myself.

Simpson followed me in and went to his desk. He sat down and looked out at me. He was uncomfortable, I could tell, because he was fidgeting. Normally, he taught his computer classes standing up. It was unnatural for him to address students in the 'sitting position'. 

_~ Poor fool ~ _I nearly smirked. _~ He doesn't know what he's gotten himself into ~_

"Well." Mr. Simpson said. "Obviously we have a situation here. You... uhh... seemed to have witnessed myself and Ms. Kwan... expressing our feelings to one another... in the uhh... staff room." He looked around nervously as if the walls were listening. Finally the pressure got to the man. He stood up and crossed his arms. 

"Well Amys... It is Amys, isn't it?"

_~ Close, but no cigar ~ _I didn't say anything though.

He ignored that little fact, and went on lecturing, "What are we going to do about this? Or rather, what do you want to do about this?"

_~ Holy shit ~_ I had power over a teacher. I could do whatever I wanted. ~ _Whatever the fuck I want ~ _He knew I knew this. Simpson started to sweat.

Goddamn teachers are too smart for their own good. He suddenly had a look of inspiration in his eyes and his posture became more confident. Or rather, he sat down on top of his desk and crossed his legs. 

"But then," he started, "What were you doing in the staff lounge? It is off limits to students. And why weren't you in class?" It was a stare-down.

We just sat there, myself in a desk, him sitting on his. This was a make or break situation. Who was going to feel the guiltiest? We sat. Five minutes... ten minutes... fifteen... 

He finally looked away first, in guilt and shame. I had won. Mr. Simpson was my bitch, and maybe even that Ms. Kwan. I allowed myself a small smirk.

And then I quietly told him my plan.

===================

Short, simple, and all together a waste of your time, but unfortunately, necessary.


	7. Kyoto Song

(It's in Simpson's Point of View) - Oh and after an hour of research, I still couldn't find Ms. Kwan's first name so I gave her one. Carissima. It means 'dearest' in Latin. Don't like it? Like the song says, 'Get-Get-Get-Get-Get over it.'

===================

Part Seven

_~The shit has really hit the fan now ~ _He thought.__

Archie Simpson was sweating. The room had suddenly become very close and very hot. A student had found him and a fellow teacher in the faculty's closet having relations.

Besides the fact that he could get fired if it got out... this could seriously affect his relationship with Christine Nelson. 

But it was all harmless. There really was no 'it' to begin with. He and Carissima Kwan had had a mutual agreement. They would have this small affair, expecting no attachments or commitments. Really, it was just an occasional, emotionless fuck every once and a while. 

Archie had been happy because this was cheaper then paying for some random prostitute. And could trust Carissima not to say anything.

Carissima had been happy because she _needed_ this. With her husband sexually inactive because of his sickness, she had been going mad. Archie had offered sex one late night while they were going over scheduling. Carissima had accepted.

They had thought they were safe, and not just because he used a condom(A/N:tee hee). They had done it before in that very same closet and various other places. They really hadn't expected anyone; they had done this too many times before. It had been perfect.

Then _that student_ had walked in on them and his world had been turned upside-down. The strange thing was, despite having just ruined his life; Archie Simpson couldn't for the life of him remember where he had seen this particular student before.

So he was looking for any information -or dirt- he could find. That is why he was in his office on his computer searching through the school records. It wasn't illegal. He was a teacher and had the right to do this. The only problem was, _why_.

He typed in his username and password and clicked the 'enter' key. After wiping the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand, he began his search. 

"Amy... Amys..." he muttered. "What the hell is that name? God damn it!" He knew that this was one of his students from one of his tech classes. But there were so many students because of the overcrowding, even halfway through the school year he didn't know a few of their names. Especially the names of these quiet ones.

"God damn it!" He said again. The student really hadn't said that it was 'Amys', but it just didn't sound right. Where did he know that face from...? Squinting at the computer screen, a frantic Archie Simpson tried to think.

He had it! This was the same student who had spilled water all over one of the brand-new keyboards. God he had been pissed! That was also the same day he and Carissima had done it in the back seat of his car. 

Archie clicked on the kid's profile and was shocked at what he found. Reading aloud, "...Suffers from severe panic disorder, depersonalization disorder, and Bipolar I. What a fucking freak! …Suffers from a withdrawal from society. Damn it!"

If he tried to spend a special amount of time with this student and someone found these records, he could get into some serious trouble. You weren't supposed to mess with the psychos.

You were _supposed_ to leave it up to the 'specialists' -who by the way, this student wasn't spending any time with. Archie was a goddamn teacher though, what more experience did you need?

He checked the grades next. "Fucking average. All C's." So he couldn't make his case about being too dumb or too smart. Or as society would call it, 'challenged' or 'gifted'. That left the behavior records. Entering into the file, he liked what he saw.

"Huh." He grunted. "Twelve un-excused absences, twenty-three detentions, and one three day suspension. Behavior problems of course, the usual fights, language, and insolence towards others. Huh. This is interesting. Was caught up in a police raid at home twelve years ago."

Archie did the math. "Must have been about three. No family except one older brother, Corbin, 24. Caught smoking and drinking at a party three years ago."

There was a noise. He looked up and saw Carissima Kwan shutting the door.

"Well?" She asked.

"Looks kind of grim." Archie Simpson said. "This kid has really got us by the balls."

"Shit."

"Do you have any classes or anything?" Archie asked, pointing at the screen. "It says here twenty-three detentions. Serve any with you?" 

Carissima Kwan walked over to Archie Simpson leaned over and started reading the screen.

"Hmm..." she said. "Yeah, sounds familiar. Nicknamed "Coat Freak" or something, gets picked on a lot. I knew there were problems but... bipolar I... God, that means to have experienced probably one _depressive_ episode and a full-blown _manic_ episode. This is the kind of shit that leads to _suicide_. Crap. It lists Gavin Mason as a usual aggressor. This is not good Archie. Gavin can overdo it sometimes, and from what I've just read... well, if he were to go to far I think this kid would snap. The last thing we need right now is a fight. What, with the board up our asses and the overcrowding... we could get into some serious trouble with the parents. Something should have been done even if this kid hadn't... well... you know, walked in on us."

Archie Simpson looked up at Carissima Kwan who was still leaning over his shoulder and reading. "So what should we do...?"

"I have no idea Archie. I have no fucking idea."

===================

fun times y'all...


	8. Never Surrender

This is going to have a little _trombone humor_ in it! In other words, it is about how the trombone can be tied in with the male genitals/masturbation. (It is the same joke over and over, so believe me; it is going to get EXTREMELY old and fast!) I am not a pervert; I just have to keep saying that over and over again... I am not a pervert... I am not a pervert...

===================

Part Eight

Band.

God I love band. 

Not only is it the second-to-last class of the day, but you don't have to talk and you can still express yourself. Degrassi has a really small band. So small that I am the only trombone. For a decent band, there should be at least ten trombones but... hey.

My boner's name is Craig. It used to be Tomfoolery, but then I saw Craig.

Craig isn't in band and neither are any of his jackass younger friends. I wish he would leave them and join me. It would be bliss. A gift from the heavens.

A real big reason why I like band is that we do absolutely nothing. We freestyle mostly. So I just sit, think, and play.

Today, of course, I was thinking about the events that had just happened.

_~ I thought Mr. Simpson was supposed to be boning Emma's mother. Hee Hee boning. Trombone! This would be really bad for Emma if it got out... I should tell someone! Nah, might attract too much attention towards me. That would be real bad. ~_

Losing myself in train of thought, I didn't realize that we were supposed to be playing for once. Instead, I was stroking my boner. 

_~ Awe Crap! ~_

Waiting for the next measure, I took a deep breath and started to play. 

_~ Trombone Bliss ~_

Then:_ ~ Dangit ~_

My neighbor is a tuba player, Kyle, and he always tries to touch my boner. I hate it when other people try to play with my boner; it is just so annoying. And when they try to blow it, it is horrible. I am the only one who is allowed to touch my boner. Although sometimes for teaching purposes Mr. Elson (the director) plays with it. He is really good and experienced.

"Stop touching my boner when I am trying to play with it!" I yell a little loudly. Being as how immature we students in band are, we both burst out giggling.

We picked up again at measure 157 of the really gay song we were playing. It was 230 measures long and basically all I had was whole notes and quarter notes. I always get sucky parts. 

We stopped. Damn trumpets messing up again. They are always messing up. I knew we were going to have a long break so I decided to lubricate my boner. Searching around my case, I found the jar of slide grease and took a big glob with my fingers. I smeared it on my boner. I took my hand and started rubbing the shaft. I rubbed it up and down. I was in the zone, quickly and efficiently rubbing it.

I really love my boner and I try to keep it in the best condition for as long as I can. I have had it for a long time. I haven't dented it up or anything. Using my knife, I had even delicately inscribed my name into the bell under the serial number. The shaft was my pride and joy though. It was a little longer then the regulated boner, so when I was playing with it, I could really hit some notes. I always greased the shaft every week too. But that is just a consequence when you play with your boner as constantly as I do.

_~ Damn ~_ too late I realized that I had made a mess. The white substance was all over my hands and my boner.

_~ Awe Crap! If I don't clean this up, it is going to get extremely sticky by tomorrow! ~_

I excused myself and took my messy boner and me to the bathroom to clean up. 

=================== 

Yeah, this chapter was all about the trombone. Which I happen to play! It may have been a little perverted, if you don't know the slang. And it was stupidly pointless because if needed, it could have been easily cut! But I kept it anyway! And my other character was out of character. Weird. Erie. But everything's still cool!


	9. King of Pain

I was looking over the story and you know what it's lacking? Character description! And ahh... (I agree with you beyblade-ice-queen) at one point, this fiction was VERY serious. There was hardly a joke anywhere. Then it was kind of spiced up a bit... so it is serious/stupidly funny. But time for more serious stuff now...

===================

Part Nine

Wiping off the last few specks of water, I stood back and admired my newly cleaned trombone. It shimmered in the light. Such a wonderful sight... shed a tear.

I gently placed my trombone on the floor and went to the sink to wash my hands. I turned the tap on and let the water run through my fingers. My pinkies were painted black, the rest were left untouched. It was my thing. 

I actually stole that idea from a Robert Jordan book, except their nails were painted turquoise and the characters shaved the sides of their heads. That wasn't quite my thing.

Looking up, I quietly observed my image in the mirror.

_~ Yikes ~_ my blond hair hung limply just below my earlobes. It was a lot shorter in the back then the front so it always gave the illusion of being extremely messy. Today it looked worse then ever. My brother's friend had cut it. She said it looked cute. I thought it made me look like a freak. I kind of liked it.

_~ Crap ~_

There were black streaks under my blue eyes. It might have been mascara, it might have not been. I don't remember putting any on this morning. I looked exhausted. My face was very pale from the constant lack of sun. I am actually more of a night person...

An old cut over my left eyebrow had reopened and small droplets of blood were beginning to surface. I had gotten the scratch from one of my knives a couple months ago. I knew that if I didn't do something, I would have blood dripping down into my eye, and Paige would laugh at me. More. It was not the first time, and it would probably not the last, that I would need yet another Band-Aid. 

I finished washing my hands and started to dry them with one of the cheap paper towels they provided. I tossed it into the garbage can and then tried to see if I could find a Band-Aid in one of my many coat pockets.

_~ Yes! Success! ~_

I tore the wrapper open and placed the Band-Aid onto the cut. Turning on the tap again, I used some water to smooth my hair down a little. 

_~ There. Now I looked at least half normal. ~_

I left the mascara as it was, picked up my trombone, exited the bathroom, and ran into trouble.

_~ Oh shit crap damn fuck! ~_ It was Gavin Nelson, or Spinner, I guess his friends call him. I call him asshole. He always picks on me. I guess he saw me enter the bathroom and decided to wait for me to come out. I looked down the halls and didn't see anyone. We were alone.

_~ Shit ~_

"Well. What do we have here? Skipping class?" he asked in that annoying little voice he has. You know the one where he always has to think about the words before he says them... His arms were folded across his chest and he was leaning against a wall. He was smirking. 

I tried to back into the bathroom but he leaped out and grabbed me. Despite towering over people and looking very big and strong, I have zero upper body strength and he knew it. He knew it from the times he had done this before. 

He escorted me to the utility closet. I was clutching my trombone. This was bad. This was real bad. Sure, he had punched me a couple of times before, but this was when his friend Jimmy was around. Jimmy usually stopped him from going too far. And I usually didn't have my trombone. If anything happened to it... I didn't know how I would get the money to fix it. 

I sighed as we approached the familiar door. I started to enter, but he stopped me. He signaled for us to continue. I was puzzled. I kept following him. We reached the door for the boiler room. It was locked as it always is. But Spinner pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket. While he was searching for the right one, I looked around and still saw no one. No! There was some movement far down in the hall. I started to cry out, but a slap from Spinner over the head stopped me. 

Looking back up I saw it would have been fruitless. It was Jimmy Brooks and Marco Del Rossi, both friends of Gavin Mason.

Spinner pushed me into the boiler room and waited for his friends to arrive before entering. I quietly placed my trombone in a corner of the room. When I looked back at the door, both Jimmy and Marco had arrived. They all entered and shut the door behind them. Marco locked it. 

_~ Oh crap. ~ _I tensed up. _~ No one could just burst in. The door has a lock. The utility closet didn't. That is why they brought me here. ~_

Spinner laughed. "Relax Freak, we are not here for that." I locked my knees. Last time he had said that, I went away with a broken arm. I had only recently gotten the cast off.

"It is just a business transaction Jacket-Freak." He continued. "Jimmy..." he gestured.

I focused all of my attention on Jimmy. "Word is you know where you could find us some..." He looked over at Marco, and Marco nodded. Jimmy continued, "... pot."

Yeah. Sure I knew. My house, or more specifically, my brother the dealer. I thought it would be better to deny it at first, and then I wouldn't have to deal with these people any longer. I shook my head no.

Gaining more confidence, Jimmy nodded. I saw too late that he was looking behind me. My knees gave way as someone elbowed me in the back. Hard. I fell to the ground. I was on my hands and knees, looking down at Jimmy's shoes. When I was listening to Jimmy, Spinner had snuck behind me just for this very reason.

He asked again. "Get us some pot." He added, "Freak"

I shook my head once more. I heard Jimmy sigh. Then the kicking began. I curled up into a ball.

Marco said, "Hey, watch out for the face! You don't want anybody to know about this do you?!?"

The kicking continued. Jimmy yelled, "Stop!" And it continued. Jimmy tried once more. "Spinner god damn it, stop it you mother fucker!" There were two more final blows and then the barrage finally stopped. Marco swore. 

Jimmy said, quietly, "I am going to ask you one more time, and if you still say no, I will let Spinner lose after you. And not just now, for the rest of our years here, I will let him beat the shit out of you. I am the only thing stopping him right now. Did you know that Freak?" 

I felt I better comply, so when Jimmy asked once more, I vigorously nodded. 

"Good." Was all he said. There was a moment of silence. Someone was crying. I realized it was me. Tears were streaming down my face.

"Awe man, Spinner." Marco said. "Why the hell did you go and do that shit for?"

"Hey, I got us the pot didn't I?" Two more kicks in the stomach. I heard the door being opened. They were leaving. The door shut. I was all alone. Again.

===================

I lay there for about ten minutes before I heard the door knob rattling. Someone was coming. That someone was probably Spinner, come to finish the job. I started crawling for a corner. The door opened. I looked over my shoulder. It was Marco. 

"Hey." He said. I stared. He approached me. I cowered back. "No, I am here to help you." He walked up to me. I was looking up at him. He held out his hand. I grabbed it. Marco Del Rossi helped me off the floor when I felt like shit. I would have to remember that. He helped me into the nearest bathroom. 

"Are you Ok?" He asked as we entered. I looked around, nobody else was here. 

"Yeah." I said gruffly.

"Here." He said, shyly handing me a bag. I looked into it. It was a gym uniform. "You can wear these for the rest of the day." I wondered why. Then I looked down and saw my pants were splattered with blood and I couldn't imagine that my shirt was much better under my jacket. I think when Spinner was kicking me, my own knife had broke through the fabric of my jacket and started cutting me.

_~ Wonder why I didn't feel the pain... Aren't I sounding gothy now? Loser.  ~_

"Ok." I went into one of the stalls as Marco waited outside patiently. 

I stripped down, even though there was a strange guy outside of the cheap make-shift wall. I looked and found the source of the blood. It was a nasty looking cut six inches long going down my side. After using toilet paper to clean up a lot of the blood, I put on the uniform.

"I don't think they will fit very well though, you are a lot taller then me." He was right. The shorts were extremely short and the shirt was very baggy. He had wider shoulders then me, and I had longer legs then him. I bundled up the clothes I had been wearing and put them in the bag. They were all bloodied up. I put my jacket back on and left the stall.

When he saw me, he was kind of disappointed. I think he had wanted to see me without my jacket. Yeah. Right.

 Going to the sink, I started cleaning up my face. 

"Here, let me." Marco said. He took the wet paper towel I was using and gently started to wash my face. 

"Thanks." I said quietly.

Marco laughed. "It is the least I can do for allowing those psychos to beat you up. It was very wrong and I am very sorry." He stopped for a moment to look at me. He was telling the truth. Then he continued to clean. "There. That should about do it." He said after a couple of more minutes. He pulled his hand down from my face. And then he kissed me.

I was shocked. "Craig!" I whispered.

"Oh." Marco said, disappointed. "Oh" And then he left. 

===================

Oh boy, am I evil or what? This is fun! It may have not been the best thing I've ever written, but ahh... I've been distracted with... things. Bright, shiny things.

(Major plot twist SOON!)


	10. Thriller

Fun times... well my friends, it's time to take it to the home life. And it's about to get freaky(er)...

===================

Part Ten

I stood there, in the bathroom, in shock, thinking over what had just happened. Marco Del Rossi had just kissed me.

_~ Oh My God! ~_ Then it hit me.

_~ Crap! I am become like one of them. Got to stop. He probably didn't mean it. Gavin Mason probably put him up to it. Oh. Speaking of Spinner, what the hell am I going to do? I can't just let him continue to beat me up. That would be weak. Ah, and what is my brother going to say when he sees me like this? Hopefully he will be stoned or drunk or both by the time I get home. That is, if I get home. If some teacher spots me in this condition, I will be questioned and most likely rat out on them, the psychotic bastards. And that would be bad... ~ _

All of these thoughts were racing through my mind. I finally decide that first thing first, I was going to get out of school. I left the bathroom and made my way through the halls. I was almost near the main doors when I heard someone yell, "Hey! What are you doing out of class?!" 

I looked back. It was Mr. Simpson.

_~Shit~_ I started to run. Despite the fact that I had this guy by the balls, he could still question why I was beaten up. He could interfere. So I ran.

I looked back. He was running after me. I reached a side entrance. I burst through the doors, scaring the pigeons perched around. As they flew into the air, I continued to run. There is about a one hundred-yard field before you reach the fence that shows the school's property limits. I sprint it. I look back again. Mr. Simpson has stopped at the doors. He is just watching me run. I look forward. 

* * * * *

My house is in a secluded foresty area. It is about two miles away from the school. I have walked to school and back every day since grade three. If anyone knows those forests, it is me. I know all of the high areas to walk when it is raining so I don't slog through the mud. I knew where to go to stay in the shade the entire walk. I knew routes that drastically shorten the time. I goddamn know that forest. 

So I wasn't surprised when I got home twenty-five minutes after I had first entered the forest. 

_~ Shit ~ _

My brother's annual Friday Night Party had started early. I checked my watch. It was only 1530.

_~ Do these people have no decency? ~_

My brother Corbin's parties usually start out bad and get worse. They aren't really parties either. He and his friends just sit around, get drunk or high or both, and invite the occasional stranger or fifty. The cars were already filling up the entire driveway and it was broad daylight out. 

_~ This is going to be a bad one, I can feel it. ~_ I expected at least two arrests by Sunday night. _~ Shit. Once again, I am glad we don't have any neighbors for miles around. ~_

Emerging out of the shadows, I decide to go in. The moment I entered I was hit by the smells of various drugs and alcohol. My ears were bombarded with Zeromancer's 'Need You like a Drug'.

I saw couples dancing, men and women, women and women, men and men, whatever. I saw strange people grabbing at even stranger people's asses or breasts. People were vomiting; breaking things, and running in the nude -or close to it - everywhere. 

In other words, it was Friday night and I was home.

===================

Blah!!! Attack of the Mindless Plot Bunny! [They have rabies and are purple and often spit up used tires.] No sense now. That is what I'm aiming for.


	11. Everybody Wants to Rule the World

So yeah, it's been a while since the last update, and well, after about two months to get the creative juices 'flowing' again, I now feel it's time to continue. Even if you are familiar with this fic, I STRONGLY suggest you read over it again, as, it's been a while.

===================

Part Eleven

The first thing I did was go up to my room. I was not surprised to find my room completely empty even though the rest of the house was spilling over with people. It was an arrangement that I had with Corbin, my older brother and only living relative. He keeps my room people-free and I won't call the cops, even when things get freaky. Kinky sex freaky.

I took my jacket off and neatly hung it on my chair. At home was the only place I'd remove my jacket. It was the only place I felt safe. _~ Stupid paranoia; stupid medication ~_

I took the knife out of my coat. I examined it and found that it needed to be cleaned immediately, otherwise the blood was going to dry. I got out a special bottle of water mixed with a cleaner prepared just for this kind of occasion and cleaned the blade. I dried and placed it on its shelf.

I then stripped off Marco's gym uniform. It was bloodied to the point of where I would have to wash it at least several times. But for now, I tossed it to a corner in my room. I walked across my room to look at my cut better in the mirror. It was worse then I expected. The puss was... No, I won't get into it! ;) 

Getting some disinfectant from my desk, I used a goodly amount just to be safe.

_~ God damn crap shit- ~_

"-FUCK! Ahh! Shit!" The stuff really stung. There was a knock on my door and before I could do or say anything, it opened and in came Damon. He had a tendency to just barge in. 

"Hey Ams, Kate said you had came back from that place you go to during the day –school is it? ha - and I was wonderin'-"

"Ahh! Goddamn it!" I leapt for the cover of my closet and some clothes. I quickly put on a T-shirt and shorts, and all the while Damon watched. If he saw the cut, he didn't say anything.

"Forgot the underwear Ams." He said grinning when I emerged from the closet. 'Ams' is a nickname only he, Corbin, and a few of their friends were allowed to call me. Everyone else, if they remembered it, addressed me as Amias. It is Latin for 'loved'. I felt anything but loved though, at the moment.

"Look man," I said finally. "Just because you don't have any... dignity... doesn't me you can just barge in on people." By no dignity, I meant he wore the most flamboyant clothes. Like right now. He was wearing a real short red leather skirt and a tight purple t. He was a cross dresser. "Damn it Damon, I can see you fucking ass. That is not what I want to see right now."

He looked amused. We had had this discussion before. Hell, I think we had had it every Friday. He was a close friend of my brother, real close; as in intimate. So of course he came to all of the parties.

"And put that damn cigarette out! You are smelling up my room!"

Damon smiled and walked over to my desk. After taking one last drag, he threw it out my window. "This is new." He said, looking at some of my photos on the desk.

He was talking about some pictures I had taken of Craig. Photos of Craig taking photos, Craig at school, Craig happy. Damon is the only person who knows about my obsession of Craig, and I hated him for that. 

Don't get me wrong, I absolutely loved the guy almost more than my brother, but Craig was _mine_. I didn't need some other person going and ruining it all. 

"You know," Damon said plopping down on my bed, and causing me to wince. "If I wasn't twenty-three and didn't have your brother, I would be on this guy like a flash." I also hate it when he talks about his relationship with Corbin. It was just something I didn't want to hear.

I frowned and tried changed the subject "So what were you saying before?"

He knew I was avoiding the entire 'Craig thing' but he played along. "I was going to ask you if you wanted to come down and watch a movie Martin made for class. It is supposed to be about how drugs are a bad influence on the mind." We both shared a laugh. It was fucking hilarious. Over half of the 'audience' of the video was going to be using these drugs as they watched it. 

"Whatever." I said. "Start it without me. I had a rough day at school... you know."

"If you want to talk about it..." 

"Nah."

"Ok," Damon said, a little disappointed. I knew he was trying to get closer to me so when he and Corbin made it 'official' I wouldn't freak out. He got off the bed and walked over to the door. 

I sighed and flopped down onto my bed, not particularly avoiding the place where Damon had sat. The real reason I didn't want to go downstairs was because of my brother. He seemed to be drinking more and more at these parties and would just lash out for any goddamn reason. I know Damon tried to keep Corbin 'under control' but I hated sporting bruises because he got there too late.

I looked over at my desk and saw the new pictures of Craig. My heart fluttered. Craig was so hot, so nice, and so perfect. For the thousandth time I wish he could be mine.

I got up off of the bed and gathered up everything that reminded me of Craig. There ended up being a whole lot of stuff. I put this all in a backpack and set it by my door. _~ I'll come back for that later ~_

I change out of the T-shit into something more 'party going'. I get my knife from the shelf it was sitting on and put it in the sheath. I had recently finished making that sheath I it looked pretty good if I might say so. I tied that to a piece of cord that would fit around my slender waist. I got my jacket off the chair and with my knife, set it down next to the backpack.

That was everything in this room, my room, which I cared about. I sighed and finally opened the door that led to the party. The music was blaring as loud as ever. I left my quite room to join in on the manic sexualized dancing. (A/N: yeah, I just totally ripped off Clone High there)

===================


	12. Deus

I won't bug you with a ridiculously long A/N, this is going to be a short part anyway!

===================

Part Twelve

Late Saturday night. The party, after calming down for a bit, had started up once more sometime during the late afternoon. But I wasn't there to witness it. I was somewhere else.

I was hanging out in the Degrassi Community School's boiler room. I was just sitting with my knife, my backpack, and my jacket all wrapped around my boney frame.

Hell, I felt right at home. _~ Yep, just me, the rats, and the boiler. ~ _I had spent the night here countless times before, why not again?

I had needed to escape from the noise. Social situations, like that loud party, gave me nasty headaches. In the Boiler Room, with the exception of the pulsating boiler, I had near silence. 

Yep, just me. All alone in the dark appliance room. Sitting, doing nothing-.

_~ Ok, now it's too fucking quite. La la la la la... Doesn't help. Kind of wish I had someone to talk to. ~_

I giggled at the sheer stupidity of it all.

~_ All aboard for the Pity Train! _Whoot Whoot_! Your conductor would like to thank you for being so downright disheartened. Next stop: _Rejectville_! ~ _A joke I had with myself. I just kept riding the rails of the Suicide Express and guess what? The train was about to crash at the last station.

"Very funny, Ams. This is the part where you start talking to yourself now..." But nothing came out of my mouth. "Ha; I don't even have anything to say to myself! Classic!" Too bad I didn't have the actual determination to get on a real train and get my ass out of Degrassi.

It was something I had put off doing for a long time. I was supposed to run away. _~ What was it, two years ago..?. ~_ I'd get out of the hellhole called Degrassi. ~ _I'll go somewhere else, where no one knows me – yeah, that's what I'll do. I'll make a new life... But away from Craig? Naw, I can't. ~_

"Absolutely pathetic." I really was. Putting myself on the line for a guy. "But Craig... he is my soul mate." I contemplated this. "Yeah, he is. And tomorrow, I'm gonna go fucking tell him."

I wasn't going to run away; I was gonna fucking stay. Stay for Craig. "I'll go over to his house and tell him." _~ Fuck yeah. Screw Emma and the rest of 'em. It's fucking time that I did something 'bout my... infatuation. ~_

It was decided. On the morrow, I would go over to Craig's house and confess my eternal love to him. And then, he would realize his true feelings for me, and we would live happily forever away from Degrassi and its inane citizens.

But for now, in the Janitor's closet, I would have to get some sleep.


	13. People Are Strange

Smiles and happy, happy rainbows to all of you who review !!! [I would have had this up sooner, but I had to make a *stupid* tape for band.

===================

Part 13

It was raining. Hell, it was a bleeding hail storm. And look at me! I was in a t-shirt and shorts freezing my ass off.

I had left my jacket with the rest of my stuff in the Janitor's Closet. It was very uncharacteristic of me. But I dunno, if I wanted to do it for real, I wanted to let him see who I really was. The damn jacket _was_ my character, it was my symbol or shit.

And thus the freezing part. _~ The one time I needed that jacket for more then an extreme fashion statement and wow! I don't have it. Typical me ~ _

But I was standing in front of _his_ house shivering in the cold. That made all the difference. I was what twenty? thirty? feet away from Craig. I could practically smell him. 

I had found his address in the school directory. It wasn't hard, just flipping through the pages, looking for his name among the seven hundred other. What had been a -bother- was getting my butt across the spread-out town to the listed location with no money to my name. THAT had been hell in this fucking storm.

The water had gone into my sneakers soaking my feet and making them five times more susceptible to sores. My blisters had blisters. _~ Yeah, Singing in the Rain is cool to pantomime, but look at me. I probably got some sort of mold growing on my feet because of that nasty-ass sewer water I danced in ~_

But I was here now, here in front of Craig's house. What had inspired me to face the elements, to likely catch pneumonia, to just plain suffer? _~ My undying love for a guy named Craig of course ~ _I was following up on that insane-crazy idea I had conceived last night in the janitor's closet.

I checked my digital. _~ Ten A.M., Sunday, and it is pouring out here. He ought to be home. Hell, Craig BETTER be home. Don't want to end up talking to a door ~ _

I was going to expose Craig to my love for him. Yep, I sure was. Any minute now, I was going to march up that walkway, pound on his front door, and tell him.

But I continued to stand where I was. _~ Coward ~ _I didn't move an inch. _~ Chicken ~ _I just stood there. _~ Hell, at least investigate the area! Perimeter check and shit. ~ _

That is what I would do! I wouldn't confront Craig just yet, but I would at least get a feel for his house. _Now_ I moved. _~ Spineless craven ~_

I slowly made my way up the driveway. I didn't want to look too suspicious, but I didn't want to be caught either. _~ Cuz that is all I need right now, some crazed elderly lady calling the police because she spotted a 'lurking figure' in the shadows. Yeah. Right. ~_

I got to the side of the house and stopped. I didn't go up the porch that would lead to the door and then Craig. Instead, I snuck by it and to a window. I peered in.

Nothing. Sure, there was furniture and shit, but there was no sign of Craig. I crept over to the next window. This time I got a good view of a kitchen. It was decorated with all the signs of a happy, caring home. There weren't dishes piled in the sink, bugs scurrying about, and an empty refrigerator.

_~ Hell, Craig probably lives the happiest life... family, friends, and I am doing it again. Gotta stop feeling sorry for myself ~ _I glanced to my right, then to my right. Nobody was around. I made my decision.

Circling around the house once, I found to my utter disgust that I had just one option if I wanted to get in. The only window that was hidden from public scrutiny was the living room one that I had started with. It was obstructed by a giant bush. That was the good news.

The bad news was that right under that transom and glass was a window well. A fucking window well that ran the entire length of the living room window and a foot further on the sides. But I had to get in to talk to Craig. Or if he wasn't home rummage through his things and find out what made him tick. _~ Hell yeah, and at the very least, look through his underwear drawer. _:P_ ~_

I carefully placed my foot on the metal bar. It was probably only an inch thick around, and was jutting out so I was about two and a half feet away from the window; not to mention the four foot drop. And did I mention it was raining? Yeah, it was fucking raining making the task probably one hundred times harder.

I put my hands on the window frame and prayed that it wasn't locked. Here, in suburbia, who the fuck locked their doors? Paranoid freaks. _~ I can only hope that Craig and his family aren't paranoid freaks. That would just really _suck-_oh good ~_

The window moved. A little. Just a little. Pushing at it harder, I found my luck didn't continue. The window wouldn't budge any further then the few inches I had gotten.  There definitely wasn't enough room for me to squeeze through.

I put all of my weight into moving the window. I was balancing very precariously on the edge of the cellar guard _~ Fucking piece of-ahh! ~ _My fingers slipped off the window frame and with them, my body followed. The water had made the edges of the window well's bar slick, so naturally, me, being me and the klutz that I am, fell forward and down into the damned well.

===================

I must have hit myself on my head on the way down; I must have blacked out. One moment it was storming out and the next, pleasantly calm. _~ Either that or I've gone through some sort of odd, freakish time portal and it is now the year 2016 and all of Degrassi is under my mind control- yep, I hit my head. ~_

I hadn't opened my eyes yet, but I knew some time had past. I couldn't feel the rain or hail pounding at my skin anymore. I lay there for a few more minutes, thinking about how screwed I was if I had acquired myself anymore brain damage then I already had. _~ Time for some affirmative action, like Dubya to the south is always saying ~_

I opened my eyes. I panicked. The world was completely black. _~ Holy shit, I've gone blind! What the hell am I going to do? Fuck! How am I going to get out of here? What am I going-oh, wait, it is just night. Scared myself there. Idiot.  ~ _I weakly laughed at my own stupidity.

_~ Something smells _really _bad. Can't be me. ~ _My eyes adjusted to the dim light. Besides being blurry, they seemed fine. I could see a shape right in front of me. It was a small rock or something. ~_ Smells like... dead. Oh crap. ~ _That 'rock' was actually a dead mouse. 

I tried getting up but found that I couldn't. The world around me was spinning. I fell down on the window well ground and this time, right on top of the mouse corpse. _~ Oh, nasty! ~_

This time, I got up even quicker, and this time, of course, I fell down faster. Luckily, I was able to swing my body away from the mouse. I still didn't enjoy sharing the window well floor with the mouse though. 

I propped my body up against the metal wall. I looked up. The top was about four feet from where I was sitting. _~ Oh crap ~ _For the second time, I checked my digital. It read six o'clock at night. _~ Oh, now really crap. I've been out for almost eight hours. Strange... it only seemed like six hours. Oh yeah, the clouds. ~ _Although it wasn't raining, there was some serious overcast going on.

I set the timer on my digital for ten PM. _~ By then I ought to be better. I just hope I don't have a concussion. ~ _I would just have to get some rest for now. _~ Hell, isn't that what I did last night? ~_

HA!

===================

I was going to add more, but Adult Swim is on right now! Esh! Guess it will have to wait till Wednesday!


	14. You Might Think I'm Crazy

Woo Hoo! Wednesday! Shortened schedule @ school, South Park, & other things happen on this day. Like me updating this fic! Cool beans. And I have the queerest song stuck in my head. 'Dig it' by D Tent Boys. [From that movie Holes] It is cool, but still, I heard the song like once and it won't blogging leave! Ok, scratch that, it is now The Car's 'You might think I'm Crazy'. Hee hee!

===================

Part 14

I awoke from my 'nap' to the persistent beeping of my digital. I fumbled around in the dark for a bit before I finally clicked it off. Its' shrill 'bebeep-bebeep' had really gotten into my head; my ears still rang.

"Stupid idiotic gay-ass digital, waking me up like that," I mumbled to no one in particular. Suddenly, I remembered just exactly where I was. "Oh." I was on the bottom of a window well. 

_~ Figures. It's just like my luck to crap out like that. ~ _I started to fidget. Laying on the small stones that made up the floor had not been comfortable. _~ First things first, I gotta get my ass out of this damn-ed hole ~ _

I tried pushing myself up off the ground. I felt a wave of nausea and the same dizziness as before, but it wasn't as bad. I was able to stand on my feet. I leaned against the window well's wall though just in case my legs gave out again.

While I was standing there, I surveyed the prospects. Either break through the glass of the window leading to the basement (and probably make enough noise to get the police on my ass or seriously hurt myself) or I could just climb out and find another way in. 

Yeah, I still wanted to talk to Craig. It was a driving force inside me, this passion to tell him how I felt. A hurricane. Hurricane Amias. No stopping me now.

I guess it wouldn't be too hard, just climbing out. My shoulders were actually a few inches taller then the top of the well, but that was beside the point. I _had after all, fallen down the very same well I was standing in now. _~ Probably got a concussion. What were the signs? Dizziness? Confusion? _Damn, _I knew I should have paid more attention in Health ~__

I looked up and down the three walls, searching for a good place to put my feet. _~ There! ~ In the corner of the well, it bulged slightly out. It wasn't much but I bet even in my _condition _I would be able to make it up no problem. __~ And then I get to see Craig! ~_

===================

I was lying spread-eagle in _his _front lawn. Crawling up and out of the window well had actually taken more out of me then I had expected. I had nearly been panting when I had finally gotten my knees on the wet grass. But I was out and I was going to _him. ~ Hurricane and all that shit ~ _

It was probably ten fifteen or so, he'd still be up. I turned my head and noticed something peculiar. A car was parked in the driveway. It hadn't been when I had first arrived. _~ Ok, so maybe he wasn't here before. That is a FINE car ~ _

It _was a nice car; some kind of convertible. __~ Lucky bastard ~ If I had had the energy, I would have slapped myself. _~ Craig is not a bastard. If anything, he is a demigod. An aphrodisia at its finest. ~_ I laughed my dry, throaty cackle that only a few people knew me for. _~ Yeah right Ams, nice thinking there ~__

I lay there for a few more minutes, not really doing anything. Finally, I mustered up enough energy to put out this thought: _~ I'm such a friggen procrastinator ~ _I sighed. _~ Best thing is to just... get it over with. Hell, I'll just try the door ~_

Why not? Suburbia right? Who locked their doors anymore? _~ Ywwa, I've gone through this conversation already. Maybe that fall really did rattle something up in my head !!! ~_

I yawned. _~ Boring ~ It was getting late. _~ Either do this right here, right now, or get out of town Ams. ~_ But I already knew what I was going to do. I was going to talk to the man of my dreams. __~ Eventually... ~_

My position was getting rather uncomfortable. My clothes had already been drenched from the storm, but lying on the grass, the water continued to soak into my skin. _~ I'm probably a prune underneath all that shit ~ at the thought, I lost it. I don't really know why though, but I was lucky no one heard my giggles. _

Once I got myself under partially control, I muttered "Ok, now this is getting to be really pathetic. Get up." I did. It was strange. I was like a robot, but under my own free will. I just had to keep following my own orders. 

"To the door." I commanded myself again. But with a big silly grin on my face, I added, "Charge!" And my feet followed my voice for the second time. 

As I walked towards the house that held Craig, I figured a few things. Either he wasn't home or he was asleep. There wasn't a single light on in the house. _~ But that doesn't explain the car in the driveway. He's probably just sleeping. Hell, school-night and all... –Dear god, I'm on his porch __~ I was. I was standing right outside his house. I stared at the door._

"The knob idiot. You open a door by twisting the knob." My voice wasn't as strong as before. I was having those doubts again... My arm quickly darted forward at the door... I twisted the knob... locked?

No, it wasn't. The door swung open without a squeak.

_~ So I went through all that _shit _for nothing. The friggen door was open the entire time? The friggen window well episode? ~_

"You really are stupid Ams_." I said aloud to myself. But I was in. And that was all that mattered to me. I slipped into the front hall and quietly shut the door behind me. _~ If he _is __asleep, I sure as hell don't want to wake him thinking I am a burglar or shit ~ _

I looked around the room. It was nice, very posh, very new-age. Some sort of wood tile covered the floor, probably oak. I could see, even in the dark, that that walls were painted in a creamy white with a wooded banister leading around the room from the floor up. The furniture consisted of a few chairs, an end table, and a sofa. The chairs and sofa were done up in some sort of green velvet or felt. It was nicely set up for a simple foyer.

All in all, it was very fitting. The quality of the room was balanced to the car sitting out the driveway and that expensive-ass camera he used. Compared to my Kodak disposables... yeah.

I could tell that Craig led a happy, well-off life. _~ Dad is probably a lawyer or shit, maybe a doctor. It looks like it was professionally done. Well, probably his mum. Yeah, seems right. Probably a stay-at-home too, makes sure she can take care of her kid ~_

There were a few doors leading from this front hall, along with a staircase. I was tempted to go up those stairs, but thought better of it. _~ Where would his darkroom be? Downstairs. ~_

"Where it is dark. Ha."

I randomly chose a door. It led to the living room. _~ Looks the same in here as it did out there. _FROM THE WINDOW WELL _~_

"Yeah," I said sheepishly. "Window well." Suddenly, I heard a noise. It was... behind me? I spun around to confront... no one. "What the?" Then it hit me. My wet clothes were dripping off the water. 

"Crap!" Inspecting the floor, I found I had left a trail of water from the door to where I was standing now. I swore again; muddy footprints too.

I quickly retraced my path, heading outside and onto the front porch. I was back outside. Deciding it was for the best, I stripped out of my current soggy outfit; shoes, socks, shirt, and all. I left my underwear on, for dignity's sake.

_~ Figure hey, I can always loan some shit off of Craig ~ _I flipped out at the thought. "That _would _be nice."

===================

I was in _his dark room. The place __he developed __his photos. It was like I was on ecstasy. [A/N: Not particularly aimed @ Ashley] My biggest high in a long time, if not ever. "God Craig, I love you so much."_

Hell, I was probably standing in the same place he had when leaning over, inspecting some prints. I could fucking smell the fumes and I loved it. 

No... I guess I had been too caught up in to moment to notice it at first. The place hadn't been used in a _long _time. Hell, it looked trashed. 

Ok, now I felt very foolish. The place WAS trashed. Supplies scattered everywhere, cabinets upturned. Something was very wrong. 

"What the hell is going on?" I asked myself quietly. I knew the address was right. I had looked it up in the school handbook. It was the same book they had handed out in the beginning of the year.

"Beginning of the year?" I questioned myself. "That doesn't sound right for some reason."

And then I remembered.

[Flashback]

Now it seems having a locker next to the bitch is not bad at all. I was going through my Algebra notes when I overheard Emma and Manny talking. About Craig. About my Craig. I froze, and started to really listen to the bitches for once.

Emma. "Yeah, so then Sean came over and said he was like scared that something was wrong with Craig. We went over to Joey's house and told him. It ended up that Craig had run away from his father. His father was like beating him or something." She said it so indifferently, so emotionless. I wanted to strangle the bitch.

But Craig. My Craig was being hurt. Inside I was screaming with pain. Pain for the godly Craig. Outside, I kept the same straight, emotionless face that had plagued me for five years. I shifted myself so I could hear better, but so I didn't actually look like I was listening.

Emma. "So now Craig is living with Joey and his step-sister Angela."

The information was coming at me in a rush. Joey... Angela...? Who were these people? Why hadn't I heard of them before? Was Craig going to move away from me forever?

Manny. "Wow. That is harsh. So did you get the homework Mr. Simp-"

_~ HOMEWORK! The bitch is concerned about HOMEWORK at time like this. ~ _I tuned out again. They were back to the same old crap. Whores the both of them. Emma especially...

But Craig. Hurt. Why didn't I know this? Craig is my guy. I should know everything about him. _~ Then why didn't I know he was suffering? ~ _My heart was reaching out for him. I left my locker for my next class - World Civilization.

[End Flashback]

It was all coming back to me now. Craig. His father. The entire 'situation'. _~ How the HELL could I have forgotten this? Shit ~ _

And then I remembered the rest of it. 

[Flashback (again)]

Someone knocked on the door, bringing me back to reality. Mr. Finch stopped his lecture and the class - half-asleep and very thankful for this interruption - looked over to the source of the sound. The door opened and... In came Craig! _~ Whatthefuck!?! ~_

He looked tired. Just plain and simply tired. I watched him hand a note to Mr. Finch and sit down at his desk. _~ God damn it, if I ever find the person who did this to my Craig... I swear...! ~ _My hand tightened around the hilt of the knife. _~ NO! I said I wouldn't go there... again... ~ _My grip loosened and I pulled my hand out of the jacket.

[End Flashback (again)]

_~ I miss my knife. Why the _hell_ did I choose today to leave it at school TODAY? ~_

I heard a noise again, interrupting me from my thought. I knew it wasn't dripping water. That problem had been solved.

This time, I slowly turned around. When I saw the source, my body filled with mixed emotions. Rage and hatred for one. I was fucking pissed. But overall, I felt an extreme pity. Pity for the damage I was gonna inflict on Craig's father.

"What are you doing? Who the fuck are you? Why are you here?" He asked quickly. Suddenly, the man slowed to ask: "Do you know Craig?"

Oh, now I was really pissed. This cretin had the nerve to ask about Craig after all he had done. My fury felt like acid set in my bloodstream.

===================

Ok, more to come soon. I dunno know when, but there will be more! Ha ha! (I can't give any positive dates because I have a band concert Thursday night, so that means no time to write!) Woot! This fic is getting loooooooong. (A lot of words for me!)


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